Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

“I’m sorry,” I gasped out, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m sorry—there was a wolf—and I?—”

“No apologies necessary,” Mutt said softly, nuzzling my cheek, that delicious purring sound vibrating even louder. “Calm.” It was a command, and one I didn’t think I’d be able to heed. And yet…somehow I did.

All the tension in my body bled away, the snap of Mutt’s voice echoing around inside my head.

My eyes felt heavy.

So heavy.

“Jeffrey—”

I just wanted to nap.

Just…a little?—

Nap.

I was warm.

So warm.

And my head was slick but that was okay. It was all okay. Because Mutt was here. And he was Alpha. Because Alpha had me. Alpha had me and I was calm—and everything was okay.

Everything…was…

Okay.

Apparently Theo was not only an unofficial vet but a people doctor too. Which I only discovered, because after he’d shown up to pick us up in a shitty mom-van, he’d brought Mutt and I back to the house that all the wolf-brothers occupied and stitched me the fuck up.

But not before Mutt carried me around like a broken koala, and whined any time my scent “spiked with pain.”

“What is stitches?!” He’d stressed as he curled his arms protectively around me. We were sitting in the living room of his house. It smelled like man sweat, expensive cologne, and cookies. Which was a weird combo, but also kinda soothing.

It was a small house. Old. Homey. With paintings on the walls and a giant ratty couch that looked like it had seen better days. Despite its age, however, the space was immaculately clean. As though one of Mutt’s brothers actively vacuumed up the wolf hair everyday.

“I’m just going to sew his head up,” Theo said gently, holding his arms out placatingly.

“No.”

“It’ll help,” he promised, voice deep and soothing. His gold eyes flashed, and I kinda wanted to keep looking at them—beta, my mind supplied—but keeping my eyes open hurt. “We need to stop the blood flow and tie up the wound before it gets infected. Head wounds bleed a lot. Which means he needs stitches.”

Mutt was clearly freaked out by the concept. Which…considering the fact his back had been torn the fuck up and was already healed—probably meant he’d never had a stitch in his goddamn life. I would bet my left nut he’d never even been to the doctor.

“It’s okay,” I reassured, fingers finding Mutt’s wrist. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, his thick thighs beneath my body. His scent cocooned me, soothing and tantalizing at the same time. No one had ever held me like this, so it felt strange.

But it felt nice…too.

That pretty much summed up every interaction I had with him. Strange but nice.

He’d even made sure that Theo grabbed my basket for me, because he’d somehow known I wouldn’t be willing to leave it behind.

“I’ve had tons of stitches before,” I reassured, my filter apparently broken. “Hundreds, probably. And I’m fine.”

Mutt did not look soothed. “Hundreds?” he asked, the panic in his voice morphing into something low and dangerous. “I will kill whoever is responsible. Names. Give me names, pretty one—of all the people that?—”

“Fuck.” I hadn’t meant to upset him even more. “It’s not a who, so much as a what—” Kinda. “Hard to explain. I just…fuck. Just let Theo do the stitches, please? I promise it’ll be fine.”

Mutt’s eyes flashed, brilliantly blue, bright as sapphires. They seemed to glow, predatory and feral as he bobbed his head reluctantly. His claws pricked at my hip where they dug in, and his fangs flickered—half shifted in his mouth.